


Five Winds

by lollercakes



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Hurricane Katrina, Hurricanes & Typhoons, Natural Disasters, humanitarian work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-19
Updated: 2018-03-19
Packaged: 2019-04-04 11:51:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14019636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lollercakes/pseuds/lollercakes
Summary: When the winds of fate blow, there is no stopping these emergency responders from rushing in. After five disasters and five collisions of fate, can they finally find each other?





	1. 2005

**Author's Note:**

> I'm excited to share this contribution that was written for "A Candle for the Caribbean" fundraiser that collected relief effort donations for the hurricanes that ravaged the caribbean this past year. With amazing beta work from Ruhi, this story came together and hopefully you will enjoy reading it. Many thanks to all the amazing donors, you are wonderful humans!

He remembers thinking about what an odd name it was for this girl to have as they reported on her neighborhood underwater. He’d sat there watching the newsreel with his mouth ajar - dismay, frustration, and fear running through him as the images of desolation and struggle became more apparent.

Hurricane Katrina had destroyed New Orleans and he could do nothing to help. He couldn’t stand it. Why wasn’t the government helping? Why didn’t they know how to manage it?


	2. 2010

She was exhausted. Mentally. Physically.

She’d been in Haiti for little over a week but had barely slept - the shelter was too crowded and there were so many people to help that she didn’t see the point in trying to sleep.

But now she knew she had to try or else someone would get hurt and she’d be the cause. Determined, she sought out the quietest space of floor in the storage closet and pulled the blanket over her head.

The dreams came for her like they always did - flickering in between recent and distant and haunting her. Regardless of whether she was in a disaster zone or home in her bed, the stench of Katrina clung to her and tinged every terrible thing her mind could recall.

It had been the defining moment of her life and one that had changed everything. Sitting atop the roof of her house with her sister and mother, knowing her father was floating somewhere down below, stuck in the floodwaters of the broken levy after trying to break through the ceiling. She remembered the smell, a day later, as the helicopters flew overhead and the water stayed high. It was the smell of rot and heat and gasoline. The boat rescued them later that day but they had to leave behind her father’s body, somewhere in the house that was under water.

Waking with a start, she could feel someone standing over her and her eyes shot open in the dark.

“Kat,” Gale’s low voice rumbled, his hand coming to rest on her shoulder. “You were shouting in your sleep. The team was worried again.” His words had her pulling the blanket back over her head.

“I’m fine,” she sighed heavily. “I need to sleep or I can’t go back on the floor. Abernathy’s orders.”

“Why don’t you head to one of the cots?”

“You know I can’t sleep there. I’ll be fine here, just give me another hour before we have to meet the admin team,” her mumbles aren’t convincing, but he taps his finger on her arm anyways before sliding down beside her.

They haven’t slept together in years, but every now and again they find solace in each other’s arms when they’re on deployment and the situation gets too hard. She knows she shouldn’t let him - they’ve tried making it into something more but they’re too volatile, too fragile, to be together like that - but she can’t deny the comfort of his arm over her waist and the warmth at her back.

“Get in an hour of sleep. I’ll wake you when it’s time to go meet this Mellark guy.” His words whisper into her hair as he tucks in. Sighing, she closes her eyes and forces herself back into a restless sleep.


	3. 2012

“Is this seat taken?” A woman’s voice slices through his music and he shifts around to face her. She looks so familiar that his heart lurches in his chest.

“No, feel free,” he nods, pulling out his headphones and squinting as he tries to remember where he’s seen her before or whether it’s just a heavy case of deja vu.

“Thanks. I just need a drink before my flight and the bar near my gate is closed.”

“I know that feeling. I’m heading to New York and I’ve been delayed two hours already,” he grumbles as he turns back to his luke-warm beer. He’d been at the airport for almost six hours now, his flight having been delayed and rerouted as everyone tried to get out of New York before the storm hit. He was the outlier - one of the few trying to get on the ground before the worst of the expected flooding and destruction took hold.

He was a year out of school after earning his Master’s in Emergency Management and was freelancing on different response efforts to get the experience from various recovery efforts. His goal was to be stationed on the ground before things got worse as he’d been invited out by a relief effort ahead of the storm. He only hoped he could make it there in time - it was a lot harder to help with decisions when you were the last guy there.

“New York? You realize there’s going to be a disaster in a few days, right?” She jokes, shaking her head.

“Oh, believe me, I know. Kinda why I’m heading there,” he laughs and offers her a tilt of his beer. Accepting, she mutters a small ‘cheers’ and sighs. “Where are you heading?”

“West. Visiting some family and then heading north to a conference in Canada. Would rather be heading where you’re going, but my boss says I need some time off so here I am, taking some time off.” Her voice forces his mind to churn, the familiarity pulling at him as he stares at her.

“Have we met before?” He finally asks, turning to face her fully. She turns until she’s looking at him head-on, her eyes roaming from his toes to his blond mop of hair.

“Maybe. You look familiar but I don’t know where from,” she pauses, taking another sip of her drink.

“I have the same feeling. I’m Peeta -”

“Mellark!” She interjects forcefully, downing her drink and standing up from her chair.

“I’m sorry - did I -”

“Yes. In Haiti. Remember that? Your plan to move the aid site to the other side of the city almost killed people!” She hisses, picking her carry on bag off the floor and dropping her scarf in the process.

“That decision saved lives - there was an aftershock that caused the structure to collapse soon after the relocation was finished!” Peeta laments before reaching down to pick-up the soft fabric. He catches the hint of evergreen that swirls around her before she grabs it from his hand. “I know it was hard work, but it had to be done.”

“Sure it did. Whatever. Have a good flight. Don’t kill anyone.” She scoffs, walking backward with a flick of her wrist.

“Wait - you never told me your name?” He shouts after her, torn between frustration and laughter as she nearly stumbles into an oncoming passenger.

“Maybe I don’t want you to know.” She shouts and disappears around the corner. Shaking his head, he turns back to the bartender who has been watching the interaction with curiosity.

“Assuming she’s not a fan of yours?” He drawls, his Carolina accent thick.

“I didn’t handle that situation in Haiti the best. I was still new to the whole experience and my communication skills were garbage,” Peeta sighs and checks the tablet before him to find his flight delayed another hour.

“Well, you’ve got a chance to make a better impression. She left her passport here and she’s on the flight to Oregon in an hour. Gate E36.”

“Now that’s not creepy,” Peeta mumbles, shaking his head.

“She was checking her flight when she sat down, I’m just observant,” he chides and turns the tablet until it’s facing me, the departure noticeable on the screen.

“Ah, okay, sorry man, I - “

“No worries. I’ll call the gate and let them know you’re coming,” he shrugs and leaves to make his way towards the phone attached to the wall. Grabbing his backpack and her passport, Peeta flips it open to the information page and frowns.

Katniss Everdeen.

The name is familiar.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he mumbles, closing the document with a snap. Shaking his head, he sighs heavily and starts towards the gate, the images from Katrina flooding back in on him.

The girl who’d been burned into his memory and inspired him to pursue his degree… She was working in his field and he’d already come across her twice. It was too coincidental to ignore. Picking up the pace, he tossed his bag over his shoulder and started to jog.

“Katniss,” he pauses just behind her as she waits in line. He can see her shoulders slump with the realization of who it is.

“What do you want?” She hisses, turning to face him. He holds out her passport with a smile playing at his lips. “Oh.”

“Yeah. Look, I know you don’t think too highly of me, but it was a good decision. I’m sorry it didn’t go as smoothly as I would have liked but I’ve learned from it and people were saved by it so I know it was the right call. I hope you can see that eventually and maybe when we work together in the future, we can make a good team.”

“Ha, I doubt we’ll ever see each other again, but thanks for this,” she smiles broadly, falsely, and takes the passport from his grip. Turning, she flips her braid over her shoulder and mumbles “Good luck in New York,” dismissing him completely.


	4. 2015

“Shh, no, shhh,” she groans into his mouth, her lips sliding along his jaw as his hands grip her waist. “I don’t have to leave for the airport until like nine - stop talk-”

He cuts her off with his hand sliding behind her head, bringing her lips back to his.

They barely make it to his hotel room’s bed, landing heavily as their clothes seemingly disappear with every breath.

Later, when her alarm sounds out the soothing tones of  _ Nearer My God to Thee _ , she slips from where she'd fallen asleep in his embrace and begins the quiet effort of pulling her clothes from around the room.

She doesn’t know quite how this started. She guesses it was when he slipped his business card into her passport back in 2012, but she never did end up contacting him until she saw one of his presentations on YouTube about data prediction in crisis situations. His talk had been enlightening, smart and convincing, and though she’d been reserved at first, he did look pretty good in his jeans during that talk. She’d texted him the next day with questions about his method, seeking more info on the application of his research.

Since then, every time they’d passed through the same city or flown through where the other was stationed, they’d meet for coffee and to catch up. Only recently had those coffees turned into more, their minds and bodies finding comfort in each other.

“You slept for almost three hours,” Peeta mumbles, his face still half hidden by the pillow. They both knew that a restful sleep is a near miracle after all they’d seen.

“Yeah, I feel it too. So excited to get on a red eye to China now,” she laughs sarcastically, not looking forward to the fifteen-hour flight that was only the first leg to Nepal.

“It’s still a bit early, do you want to lay down with me for a bit?” He asks, quiet hopefulness hidden beneath the sleepy grade of his voice. Looking back at him, she considers it for a moment. She could get lost in this if she wasn’t careful - so badly did she want to stay in this room with him, stay here and forget about the outside world, that she could almost do it without feeling guilty. But her team was counting on her for this rotation and she couldn’t back out now. “I promise not to let you miss your flight,” he adds knowingly, eyes closed as his hand slides across the sheets.

She slips back down beside him, her flying clothes comfy enough to curl up towards him as he swings a leg over her hips and locks her in. The quick press of his lips to her forehead makes her heart ache until her hands can find purchase on his back.

“Are you nervous about your deployment?” He asks lowly, as though they’re discussing state secrets between the sheets.

“No more than usual. We’re a couple of weeks into the response now so as long as it’s still stable, it shouldn’t be too frantic. We’re basically just filling the rotation of medical need until they can re-establish their hospital.” Eyes closed, she answers dreamily, stating the facts as she knows them. It had been just over a month since the earthquake had struck Nepal and devastated regions of the country. Part of her organization had already sent a group in to establish a mobile clinic that was providing medical care and she was heading to rotate into that cycle. It was part of her job, but it didn’t make the uncertainty of it any less daunting, despite how relaxed she was in that moment.

“Will you keep in touch?” The words hang between them, heavy in their reality of undefined relationship status. “You don’t have to but maybe -”

“I can try. I don’t know what the situation is over there though... “ Her response is non-committal, typical for her, but it still doesn’t sit right. She doesn’t know why, but when her mouth spits out the words “I’ll try. I’ll miss you,” she doesn’t feel the need to take them back.

His answering “I’ll miss you too,” makes her tuck in even closer. 


	5. 2017

“Sweetheart, we’re being sent to the Virgin Islands. Pack your gear.” Abernathy commands over the line, his gravelly voice firm.

“Already packed and ready. When do I leave?” She responds calmly, noting down the information that he relays to her. Taking it in stride, she starts pulling her go bag from the closet and preparing her kit for immediate departure. She’d known this deployment was coming - the only question had been where she was heading.

It had been a busy season already with an on-call rotation ahead of Hurricane Harvey, and now a full-scale deployment to the areas where Hurricane Irma was currently passing. She’d barely had time to think about it though as she tried to stay in touch with Peeta who was assisting in Antigua and Barbuda, two islands that were in the direct path of the storm. It had been a couple hours since they last got through to each other and she was determined not to be concerned with the silence.

After coming back from Nepal, she’d known she needed to make a change in her life. The deployment had been a difficult one with both Gale and Abernathy, her two anchors, having to leave early due to their health being compromised. When she finally returned home, she was exhausted and broken down, landing stateside and proceeding to escape to the woods where no one would find her.

But one had, and he’d kept her fed and warm until she could get back on her feet.

The time away gave her the opportunity to stabilize her life that had so often been unstable. The difference was noticeable. She slept more, gained weight, and even managed to get back into hiking, a pastime she hadn’t had time for since she was a kid. When eventually Peeta moved west ahead of another forest fire season, she knew that she wanted him enough to follow him, until at least she went on another deployment.

Getting back in the game, she still made a point to be deployed on a regular basis, though she now made an effort to take her vacations and had been working hard at trying to ‘settle’ in one place for more than a month. It had been difficult, but she was finding a way to make it work and she didn’t want to give up the feeling that kept bringing her back to the home she found with this man.

Looking down at her phone, she forced it to do a notification check just to see if any communication had come through from Peeta. It remained unchanged and she had to push down the worry that sparked within her. He was safe. His location was secured and he was sheltering in place, according to his last alert.

She tried to avoid the news throughout the day, though it was hard. The silence of her phone was even harder.

“You look stressed, Kat,” mentioned Gale, his laser glare practically seeing right through her. She tried to shrug it off, knowing full well that Gale knew her inside and out. “Is it him? Did you guys get in a fight or something?”

“Gale -” She groaned, shaking her head. The man was determined to see her relationship negatively, never giving Peeta the benefit of the doubt.

“Hey, I’m not accusing, you just look unhappy and I don’t like it!”

“We didn’t fight. He’s in Antigua right now and - “ Gale slows mid-stride and glances towards her.

“He’s radio silent, isn’t he?” The way he asks, it almost isn’t a question. Her responding nod is quick. “Got it. Sorry. Can I do anything?”

“No. You know how it is. Just have to wait it out.”

It’s only later when she still hasn’t heard from him that the worry starts to drown her mid-stride. The whiteboard with storm updates glows with red marker alerting the group to the disaster levels on each island - Barbuda’s number showing the highest level at ninety percent.

“Has there been a status update on Antigua?” She asks the log officer when she rounds the corner into the administrative area.

“Not a full one. I know they’re starting to evac people from Barbuda to Antigua though - the whole place is apparently uninhabitable. The Prime Minister is saying they need to get off the island before the next storm hits.” The feeling in her chest tightens with each word and she pulls her phone from her back pocket again to dial Peeta’s number. It goes straight to voicemail so she forces herself to get back to work.

Trying to push the thoughts from her mind, she delves into helping people, exhausting herself until she can no longer think. When she sits down to eat a meal, she falls asleep in her chair, head resting in her arms and body slumped over. It’s Abernathy who finds her not much later, placing his coat over her shoulders and tucking a page under her elbow, disappearing back into the fray without a word.

She doesn’t know how long she’s out before her nightmare rattles her awake with a jolt, her arm shoving the paper to the floor in a flourish and pulling her attention to it.

_ Do you want to route to Antigua? Come find me - A _

She stares at the words and frowns. Why would Abernathy be getting involved? He had other things to be worried about and this was her problem.

“Are you trying to get rid of me?” She asks from the back of the room as Abernathy leans over an unconscious patient. His sigh is audible as he stands straight and turns to her, frowning.

“No. But we’ve got a team there and they could use another body so I thought of you. Do you not want to go?” He sounds tired, she thinks, as he turns his attention back to the patient.

“I don’t want to leave us short-handed,” she pauses, kicking herself for her words.

“The convoy leaves in an hour. Be on it or not, I don’t care.” Nodding, she practically runs to collect her still-packed go bag and heads for the departure site without looking back.

 

* * *

Antigua is a mess when she arrives, the unfamiliar territory difficult to navigate on top of the incoming hordes of people from Barbuda. She learns upon arrival that the whole island has been evacuated to Antigua successfully, leaving the place uninhabited for the first time in centuries. The thought of it, the destruction that must be there, makes her skin prickle with anxiety.

Before reporting to her new team, she heads to the response Centre’s headquarters to find Peeta. It’s where he has to be, she knows. He’s not an on-the-ground responder, but one of the decision makers. It wouldn’t make sense for him to be anywhere else.

“Hello?” She calls into the near-abandoned room, the computers showing blank screens and looking vacant. A young man lurches from his napping place on his desk, his face marred by the dents from his bracelet.

“Can I help you?” He asks groggily, eyes blinking to clear the haze of sleep.

“Yes - I’m looking for Peeta Mellark. I thought he was stationed here?”

“Yeah - uh… Yeah, he was. But he went to help on Barbuda before the storm hit. They needed assistance with securing Codrington mains - who are you?” Stepping towards her, he slides his glasses back onto his face and looks her over. “You’re the girl on his phone. How did you get here?”

Katniss’ blood runs cold on the realization that Peeta had gone to an island that took a fatal hit from the storm. Not since Katrina had she internalized the body toll of her field of work, but now it was rearing its head towards her with venom. Dropping her bag in the corner, she took off at a run towards the receiving area, searching for the person with the incoming register. It was hard work, sliding between people hot with the evacuation and suffering the loss of everything that they’d known, but she couldn’t stop.

 

She refused to let her thoughts turn to the dark place that reminded her of her childhood. This wasn’t New Orleans and she wasn’t a child. But the idea that Peeta was missing was worming it’s way deeper and eventually would come crashing into her. 

“Has Peeta Mellark registered as an incoming evacuee?” She shouts above the crowd towards a man in a vibrant vest, his hands wrapped around a clipboard. He shakes his head and motions towards his ear, indicating that he can’t hear her over the dull roar of the people around them. Shouting his name again, she pushes between people until she’s nearly beside him, desperation making her panic hitch higher. 

“Are you Katniss?” A man interjects, grabbing at her shoulder and turning her towards him and away from the register. “I’m Finn Odair - I work with Peet. How did you get here?” He questions, his hands coming up to steady her shoulders. She hadn’t realized she was shaking until this moment, her heart rate rocketing in her chest. The anxiety was smothering her and she shook her head as she struggled to get the words out. “Hey - okay. Just breathe for me. That’s all I need you to do right now.” 

Leading her away from the crowd, Finn tucks her into a corner where she rests her exhausted head against the concrete while she locks the anxiety back inside. It takes a moment, but soon she’s able to get a hold of herself enough to put words together. 

“Where is he?” She croaks, her voice tight. 

“Surgery. Do you want - “ 

“Surgery?” She feels faint. Her head swoons and her fists clench tightly as she forces her knees to lock in place so she doesn’t collapse. If this were any other person she’d know exactly what to do, but this… It’s Peeta. She can’t lose him. Not now. 

“Did nobody tell you what’s happening? I thought that’s why they sent you. Hey - “ He grabs for her wrists as she stands up and faces him. “Katniss, steady. It’s okay - he’s in good hands. He was hit by debris during the storm and he might have to have his leg amputated - Woah okay - “ Holding her elbows tightly he helps her slide down the wall until her head is between her knees. 

“How did this happen?” She hisses in between anxious breaths. 

“I don’t know. It just does sometimes. He went there because the response team needed more hands to secure the communication centre. They thought they had it under control, but I guess not. When you’re ready we can head to the medical area and get a status update, okay?” 

They sit together quietly, Katniss focusing on her breathing and Finn pulling loose a rope that he  starts to repeatedly tie knots in. When finally she feels the blood return to her limbs, a sure sign of the panic attack starting to subside, they get to their feet and solemnly head towards medical. 

When they reach an area cordoned off with moveable curtains, Finn disappears into a maze of fabric with the promise he’ll be back. Katniss tries to wait, but the impatience sets in and she follows him at a distance until she sees him pull up short. 

“Are they still in there?” She asks, coming up beside him. 

“I’m sorry,” is all he mumbles, turning to face her as she looks into the room where Peeta lay, tubes and wires spilling from him as they work on what was the area where his leg used to be. The dark edging around her vision feels ominous, but she pushes it away and forces herself to stay present. 

He’s still alive. That’s what matters. 

* * *

“Katniss?” His garbled voice jolts her awake. 

“Hey Peeta,” her whispered response feels hollow as she sits up and rubs her eyes. 

After seeing Peeta come through the end of his surgery, she’d finally taken the time to report to her new team who had waved her off, somehow already knowing the situation and that she wouldn’t be cleared for operational duties. She’d walked in a haze to Peeta’s recovery room, unsure of how to handle telling him about his leg. She wasn’t ready then, and sitting at the edge of his bed, she still wasn’t ready now. But she had to be, somehow.   


“Katniss,” he groans and lifts his hand until his thumb brushes against her brow. “You’re frowning.” 

The smile she wears is weak as she grabs at this hand and brings it towards her chest. “Peeta,” she tries. “I have some bad news.” 

“You’re here though. It can’t be that bad,” he sighs, his head rolling back against his pillow as the remnants of the anesthetic weave through his system. 

“It’s just… Peeta, they had to amputate - “ 

“My leg - yeah, I know,” his eyes closed, he waves his free hand in the air before letting it drop onto his chest with a thump. Katniss feels the tears burn her eyes as she takes his hand in her own. 

“I’m so sorry - “ 

“Stop. No, shh, come here, come lay beside me,” Peeta whispers, his own voice choked as the tears well up in his eyes. She can see him struggling to keep it together, his desperation hidden beneath his masked charm as she slides her small frame around his. 

The memories of every time he’d slung that leg over her hips shivers up her spine as she tucks her head below his chin. Pushing the thought away, she presses her lips to his throat and sucks in a hot breath to keep the tears at bay. 

“I’m so glad you’re alive.” The words are quiet as they escape her, the depth of their meaning hovering unspoken. 

“Me too, love. Me too.” She can hear the drugs coming to reclaim him, their fog filling his mind surely to make him say what he’s said. She wasn’t his love - couldn’t be. He didn’t mean it. She had to tell herself that. 

Otherwise she didn’t know what to do with that. 

* * *

Watching Peeta’s transit leave the island, Katniss tries not to let the ache of his departure overcome her. She knows this is how it has to be - she has a job to to here and he needs a proper place to recover. But still, the fact that he was leaving so soon, that she couldn’t go with him, was breaking her a little more with every moment. 

“Everdeen, you’re needed in receiving.” A voice calls out, beckoning her back to the building and into the chaos. 

* * *

It’s three weeks before she’s able to be rotated out, her spirit exhausted by the effort of constant awareness and activation. She knows she’s been useful - her role here being valuable and making a difference with every patient - but still her time at work has drained her. When she finally steps off the transport back on the mainland, she nearly crumples in relief when she sees Peeta’s mess of blond hair through the crowd. 

To say she’s surprised to see him is an understatement. She hadn’t expected him to be here, to be up and moving yet, let alone willing to be here after their conversation earlier in the week. It had been a difficult one, Peeta’s disappointment and frustration prominent as he snapped at her every sentence while nearly pushing her to tears. They’d ended the call on a rough note and she wasn’t sure where they’d stood, if she was being honest. Not after everything that had happened. And everything she hadn’t said.

But seeing him, feeling his presence, was like wrapping a warm blanket around her after being outside for too long. 

Katniss picked up her pace as she moved towards him, elbowing her body through the small crowd of people until she could poke her head through to where he casually leaned on his crutches. Heart flipping in her chest, she brushed the loose hair from her braid back from her face and smiled hesitantly. 

“Hey stranger,” she calls to him, unsure of what to do with the uncertainty of everything haunting her. The pierce of his blue eyes locking on hers nearly knocks her over. For a moment it feels like her body is on fire but when she checks herself over she realizes it’s just the feel of him being so close after too long apart, like magnets finally reconnecting. 

He takes a step, she takes three, and they collide, a mess of jumbled arms and bag straps wrapping around plastic as the crutches he’s using to balance himself fall to the ground with a smack. They fall together soon after, their balance lost until they collapse entwined with a thump to the floor.

“Hey, get a room!” A laughing voice calls out, breaking through the haze. Katniss groans as she pulls back, crawling off of where she’s landed on top of Peeta and immediately feeling the warmth disappear. 

“No - get back here, I’m not done with you yet,” Peeta scolds, his body crunching up so that he can slide his fingers into her hair and pull her back down to him. 

“I wasn’t sure you would come,” she sighs finally, pulling apart after a moment and helping him back up. 

“What? What do you mean?” Peeta’s face falls as he takes his crutches back, his body still a little unsteady on his temporary prosthetic. Trying to avoid his gaze, she grabs her bag from the floor and looks around. 

“I mean, with everything. You didn’t sound too thrilled last time we talked and I thought maybe - I don’t know,” she shrugs and looks sheepishly over his shoulder, recognizing how ridiculous she sounds. 

“Katniss, no. God, no. I had a tough rehab session… I didn’t - none of it was directed at you,” he pauses, face tight as he looks her over. “It wasn’t you. I wanted you here, with me. I was pissed off and frustrated that I couldn’t hit my target and I just wanted you to not be so far away. I needed you.” 

She stops ahead of him, her shoulders slumping as everything from the past month starts collapsing in on her. All the anxiety, fear, and sadness caves and her resiliency that they had built up in her earlier in the year was gone. She was back to square one, on the verge of running away from this man who had welcomed her back with open arms despite his own battles. 

“Oh.” She pauses, eyes closed. “I’m so tired, Peeta. I just want to go home.” Katniss moans, her bag dropping from her shoulder as she turns to look at him with defeat in her eyes. He must see it. The girl that started this all so long ago, standing in front of him, lost and falling apart. 

His quiet “Okay” in response and the way he touches her cheek before leading her towards the car is more than she could ask for. The drive to her vacant apartment, the one she’d been paying for but rarely living in for the last few years, takes longer than she expects and she falls asleep against the cool glass of the car window. 

When she wakes up it’s not in the bright parking lot but a forested area where the crisp trees flicker in the sunlight. Blinking, she wipes the sleep from her face and turns to where Peeta sits in the driver’s seat staring out ahead. 

“This isn’t my apartment,” Katniss chastises, shifting to face him fully. 

“You said to take you home. So I thought…” Pausing, he smiles absently and shrugs. “This is my family’s old property. When they asked where I wanted to handle my recovery I chose here because of this place. I thought that maybe you would like to see it.” 

His words make the heat in her cheeks rise, the possibility that lay before her almost unbelievable. “Are you - what are you saying Peeta?” She needs to hear the clarification. She needs it to be real. 

“I want you to be here with me. I don’t want us to be on other sides of the country, or oceans away. These last weeks have been exhausting for us both - and don’t you deny it, I can see you Katniss. I can hear what you’re not saying and I know you. I want us to take this on together. I need you by my side… I need you to help me with this because I can’t do it alone,” he pauses, motioning to his stump. “And I think you need me to help you now. I’ve seen this in you before and I know you’re hurting. I can feel it radiating off you. I want to help you and I can’t do that if you’re not with me, not really.” 

Frowning, she feels her nails picking at her skin. It was true - she had been here before many times and only after Nepal had she truly bounced back to a level that made her capable of doing her job again. And only after Nepal had she had Peeta to help her. 

But this time was different than when she went out west with him. This was a home, not an apartment his agency rented for him. This was long term. He was asking for a promise of something real and it scared her. 

“Maybe we can actually make a go of this. Us. Together. Maybe even in the future… Maybe we can start working as a team - your operational knowledge and my research… We could try it.” Her eyes never leave his face as he speaks, entranced by the life he’s laying out. She wants it. She wants it so badly. 

“I just - “ She starts, stops, feels her nails break skin. 

“Please, Katniss,” his broken words are nearly silent as he reaches across the consol. “Stay with me?” 

Before she even realizes, her body is lurching across the space and into his, mind absent of sentences and the perfect thing. All she can think, all she can say, is the one word that is simple and a promise and she says it over and over again until she’s breathless. 

“Always.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you would like to donate to any of the charities that the anthology supported, please find more information here:  
> http://loveinpanem.tumblr.com/post/165954559744/charity-anthology-for-hurricane-maria-victims


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